


Compilation of Snippets

by galaxiestoexplore



Category: Castle, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Common Cold, Dean and Crowley Talking in the Impala, Exploring One's Sexuality I guess, F/F, F/M, Flirting, Harry Potter Next Generation, High School AU, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Express, I started working on an actual fic so fingers crossed I might actually post something, Just Marlene Being a Lesbian thanks, Kissing, Lily and Severus' friendship, M/M, Marching Band AU, Slytherin Common Room, also i don't like those characterizations anyway so it's fine, anyway, i can't believe i wrote these so long ago, i started laughing re-reading this one i don't know what to say, i'm serious about these being snippets they're not very long but hopefully y'all enjoy them anyway, implied dean/lisa i guess but like. nothin serious, intriguing i know, none of these is a crossover just fyi!, not yet anyway, silver trio being the silver trio, the chapters/snippets are in order of when i wrote them so most recent is last, the next gen stuff is NOT in character with cursed child bc i wrote this before it came out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 10:10:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13051881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxiestoexplore/pseuds/galaxiestoexplore
Summary: Just a bunch of individual scenes and fics from various fandoms that I started years ago which never went anywhere! These were all written in 2015-2016, so... rip.





	1. Lily Evans' First Day

**Author's Note:**

> Lily and Sev take the Hogwarts Express  
> written March 2015

It was Lily’s first time walking through a wall. She did it with six people watching her. A sharp-looking woman, a dark-haired man, and a boy who looked like he had had all of the color leached out of him all looked directly at her as she proceeded through solid brick and disappeared. None of them were surprised. More surprised was the family standing next to them, a professor-type with a friendly smile, a sulking, thin girl, and an auburn haired woman who clasped her hands to her mouth and said “oh!” when Lily passed through the wall.  
Two families. Two worlds. Normally, the Snape family would not have stood and watched a Muggleborn girl take her first pass to Platform 9 3/4, but as it happened, she was there when they walked up. An unfortunate coincidence… they looked coldly at her in silence.  
As the last of her red hair flicked through the invisible door, the sharp woman put her hand on her son’s back. It was not a friendly gesture, or a particularly warm one. But it prevented her from having to say anything to him. Wordless, he pushed a trolley bearing a worn suitcase through the wall.  
On the other side, Lily was waiting for him.  
“Sev! It’s so big. Where is this space? How does something this big fit here without anyone noticing? Are those owls— real owls? I’ve never seen one before!”  
He smiled at her, his first smile since waking up this morning. It looked a bit unnatural, like he had only tried once or twice before.  
“I’m so glad we did this together,” she said, taking his hand. He stared at their linked hands for a moment before looking back up at her.  
“Yeah. We coordinated it pretty well, didn’t we? I almost thought my parents would leave when they saw you, but they didn’t. I don’t think they like people like you much.”  
“Well, that’s all right. We’re still friends.”  
Other students were clustered around the busy platform with their families, saying hurried goodbyes and giving hugs while the scarlet steam engine produced puffy clouds of smoke behind them.  
“Let’s get seats on the train,” he said. They wove through the throng of robed people, trunks, and all sorts of animals and hopped up onto the train stairs.  
Most of the compartments were filling up, but the sixteenth one on the left (Lily was trying to count, although she might have gotten off at nine or so when a firework exploded down the train) was completely empty. She hauled her trunk in, a nice new one that her proud parents had bought her, and tried to hoist it over the seat. Unsurprisingly, she wasn’t strong enough. With a bit of an “umph!” Severus pushed his up over, and reached for hers.  
“Your trunk is heavy. What’s in here?”  
“Just clothes and books and stuff.” The boy tried again, but the trunk barely got three inches off the ground. They stared at it for a moment until the door slammed open behind them.  
“Need some help?” asked a tall, black-haired boy standing in the doorway. His hair was messy, Lily thought, and no sooner had she wondered why when he ran his fingers through it, rumpling it up even more. His glasses glinted almost as much as his bold smile.  
“We’re fine,” said Severus, a little sharply.  
“Sev, no we’re not. Could you get the trunk for us?”  
“Sure thing,” said the boy, winking at her as he lifted up her trunk and placed it above the seat. “I’m James Potter. Who are you?”  
“Lily Evans,” she said cautiously. Could she already be making new friends?  
“Lily. That’s pretty,” he remarked. “And you?”  
“Severus Snape,” said the boy behind her, looking a little aggravated for some reason, “and sorry, but there’s no room left in this compartment.”  
“What do you call this?” asked the tall boy, James, gesturing to the empty bench. “You have a ghost friend or something, Severus?” He seemed a bit cocky, thought Lily.  
Sev looked even more prickly than before. “We’re fine. On our own.”  
“On your own? So you can snog Lily? Not without me!” Severus reddened slightly.  
“I said, get out.”  
“What do you think?” said James, turning that smile on Lily. “You want me to stay?”  
“I’m sorry, but Sev’s right. We have a lot of things to talk about, and I think you’d find more interesting conversation somewhere else.” She found herself feeling somewhat relieved when James walked out, looking disappointed. He was charming, but he seemed like he could be a bit of a git.  
“So,” she said, getting settled on a bench, a book open in her lap, “Do you think they’ll all be like that?”  
“We’re not like that,” said Sev sourly. “He’s a jerk.”  
“Well…” said Lily.  
“He is and you know it.” They lapsed into silence


	2. Rose in the Dorms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Potter Next Gen; just a little scene between the Silver Trio  
> written May 2015

“You’re not as gorgeous as you think you are.” The voice was quiet, a little raspy.  
I whirled around to see a redhead smiling at me from the corner.  
“Rose? I… I didn’t see you there.”  
“I bet you didn’t. Too busy admiring your own reflection, huh Scorp?” I could feel myself blushing and wished my skin wasn’t so pale. Or that I didn’t blush. Father never blushed, after all.  
“I wasn’t—“  
“Yes you were.” I decided not to argue it. She was right, I had been admiring my reflection, not that I’d admit it.  
“Who let you in here?”  
“My cousin, who else?” Albus. That annoying, open-common-room-advocating little…   
“I’m sick.”  
“You’re… oh.” I suddenly registered the blanket wrapped around her, and the fact that her curly hair was even more tangled than usual. “Um… do you want something?”  
“Like what? Creme brulée? I don’t think Slytherin usually keeps chicken soup in stock.” Why did she have to be so darned logical all the time? It messed with my usually cool-and-calm demeanor. That chill attitude was what kept me in the thoughts and hearts of Hogwarts’ female population. Without it, I was just some dork in a green tie. Oh well. At least I still had my upbringing. And my bountiful pride and beauty, of course.  
“Why here? Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in Hufflepuff?” Their common room was warm, cozy, and located next to the kitchens. And she’d have a free pass there, being Molly Weasley’s cousin and all.  
“Probably. But I wanted to see Al.” Weirdly, I felt a drop in my spirits at those words. Somehow, I had wanted her to say my name. Stupid. We were a trio. One as good as the other. Although I would have preferred that Albus not let her into our dorm room without warning.  
“And you,” she added.  
I smiled. “I knew you’d come around. I am, after all, stunningly attractive.”  
“I’ve seen you freak out because you thought the giant squid grabbed you, Malfoy. I’m pretty sure infatuation is not the reason I’m here.”  
“Ah, well, always worth a try.” I had been jokingly flirting with her for the past three years. The key word here being jokingly. However Albus tried to cast our conversations.  
Speaking of Albus… tell-tale bouncing footsteps were coming down the hall. Al was way too cheery to be a Slytherin.  
“Scorps! You’re up!”  
“I’ve been up,” I said grumpily. “Nice of you to let me know a Ravenclaw was coming.”  
“Oh, come on, it’s only Rose,” he said, bouncing down on my bed and handing the girl a mug of something steaming.  
“Yeah, fine,” I relented. “Hey, where’d you get the cocoa?”  
“Molly,” he said. Of course.  
“So, whassup?” he asked.  
“What do you mean, what’s up?” I replied. “It’s the morning. Nothing’s happening.”  
“Let’s go make something happen! Get where the action is!”  
“It’s winter,” I said disbelievingly. “Literally everyone is in their common rooms, huddled under blankets, eating snatched food. You’re not missing anything.” That boy suffered from intense FOMO.


	3. Sam Winchester Takes Band Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just what it says in the title. marching band au.  
> written March 2016

.sam.  
“Hey!” someone yells, and Sammy can’t tell who, because the band room is way too small for the number of people moving around inside. A few seconds elapse, and then Sammy’s getting a face full of blond hair as Jo Harvelle, mellophone and causer of general havoc, throws her arms around him.  
“H- hey, Jo—“  
“I missed you, Sam,” she says, pulling back and grinning with one side of her mouth. “Is your useless brother somewhere in here too?” One eyebrow quirks up.  
“Yeah, probably still out by the Impala.” His brother has had senioritis since he was born, and hasn’t been engaged in band for the entire four years he’s been in the program. Jo strolls out, mellophone under one arm, while a red-headed trombone, Charlie Bradbury, chases after her. Sam smiles. It’s good to be back.  
The sun is hot on his legs as he walks out to the parking lot, dot book and neck strap already on. Band camp takes place two weeks before school starts, and the air is still filled with humidity and bugs, and now the shouts of band kids who haven’t seen each other all summer. Some trombone is already playing the fight song, loud and blatty, out near the back where the parking lot turns to weeds, and the drum majors, Michael and Lucifer (so nicknamed because “Luis is too boring for such a rad troublemaker”) are setting up their podiums on the 50 and 40 yard lines. Sammy yawns, deep and contagious, and licks his reed a few times, setting his water bottle down on the sidewalk. Behind him, the sounds of Garth Fitzgerald (oboe, but playing trumpet to march and equally bad at both) and Meg Masters (clarinet, not very friendly) snarking at each other grow louder as more and more of the band filters out to the lot.  
Someone taps Sam on the shoulder, and he turns to see Jo and Charlie.  
“Your nerd brother’s gonna be late,” Jo informs him. Sam sighs.  
“Whatever. He doesn’t listen to me anyway. How was your summer?” He addresses the question to both, since they seem to be inseparable anyway.  
“Pretty great,” Charlie responds, an arm slung around Jo. “I started dating this totally hot blonde, and she’s like, awesome at kissing.” Jo punches Charlie in the shoulder, a huge smile plastered across her face. “Anyway,” says Charlie, “How was your summer?”  
“Boring,” Sam replies. “We didn’t go anywhere, and Dean just watched movies and ate the entire time. I mean, literally the entire time. I don’t know how he can stand it.”  
As they talk, the parking lot slowly fills up with groups of people standing around and chatting, some warming up or stretching.  
“Hey, everyone get in a circle!” shouts Jody Mills, the band captain. Stretch circle proceeds pretty normally, until halfway through when Dean decides to finally show up. Sam grimaces.  
“Winchester!” shouts Jody. “Run to your spot, you’re late!” Dean ambles over to the baritone section, winking at Lisa Braeden as he passes by the flutes. Sam rolls his eyes. Jody opens her mouth to shout something a bit stronger at Dean, but then something weird happens. Two new kids walk onto the parking lot, later than Dean. Nobody is later than Dean, ever. This should be interesting.  
Sammy cranes his neck to get a view of them. They’re two boys, brothers by the looks of it, a trombone and a clarinet. The clarinet is wearing tan slacks (what is this, a courtroom? It’s 85 degrees outside) and a squint to see through the sunlight. The trombone, though, is wearing a lazy grin and even before he opens his mouth, Sam knows this can’t be good.  
“Hey, Lawrence High band geekaroos!” he says loudly, spreading his arms wide as if to give them all a hug. At least half the band visibly winces.  
“Novak?” Jody ask-shouts from the center of the circle.  
“Live and in the flesh,” replies the trombone kid, sauntering casually over. The clarinet trails after him, looking slightly annoyed.  
“You’re late,” Jody adds. “Since you’re new, I’ll forgive you. Today. Come late tomorrow, and you’ll be cleaning up the field after practice.” The kid quirks a grin up, acknowledging the comment without actually apologizing. “Everyone, this is Gabriel and Castiel Novak. Go stand with your instrument. We’re doing fundamentals.” Groans echo around the circle, but the band reshuffles into something resembling a fundamental bloc.  
“Come on, you guys, hustle!” yells Jody, clapping her hands. Sam, already on a spot, quietly rolls his eyes. It’s too hot for this. Behind him, someone giggles. Sam turns his head to see Gabriel Novak, standing amid trumpets, with a wacked-out grin still smacked across his mug.  
“Dude,” says the trombone, “she’s like, sooo perky.” Perky is not a word Sam would use to describe the band captain. Intimidating, perhaps.


	4. It's Gonna Be a Long Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One-shot set during First Born, Episode 11 in Season Nine, because I needed a little comic relief and was disappointed they didn’t show anything from this part! It’s the bit where Crowley and Dean drive from Tara’s pawn shop to Cain’s house in Missouri.  
> written March 2016 (along with this summary lol)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it ends pretty abruptly but i think it's just because that's where the Actual Show cuts in? honestly i don't remember, but i Think so

Hour One.  
“So, Missouri, eh?” said the short, bearded man in the passenger seat, flipping an impish grin at the man driving. His accent (English? Scottish?) drawled out the end of each word slowly. “I remember a lovely summer I spent there with a man named Gary. Had to kill him at the end, of course, can’t have people knowing where I spend my vacations, but it was nice nonetheless.”  
The man driving gritted his teeth and turned his green eyes on the other. “If we’re gonna be on the road together for five hours, let’s get one thing straight. We are not friends. You are not telling me about anything you do in your spare time, or whatever, because I don’t want to know. So shut your mouth. Got it?”  
The other man rolled his eyes and leaned a suited elbow on the window. “Fine, fine. You lack a taste for fine conversation, but I suppose that’s to be expected from a Winchester.”  
Now it was the driver’s turn to look exasperated. “Look, can we just not talk?”

Hour Two.  
“You call this music?” asked the man in the passenger seat, looking revolted. “Please. Go to the library. Get yourself some Beethoven.”  
“You could’ve just zapped yourself to Missouri, you know. Don’t complain about my music, you made the decision to be here.”  
“What, and lose out on all this quality time with you? Never, my dear Dean. Besides, we don’t know what’s in Missouri.”  
“What, the King of Hell is scared of something?”  
“It’s smart to be afraid of things, Dean. It’s why I’m still alive after all these centuries.”  
“Well, I wish you weren’t,” muttered Dean, cranking up the music louder.  
“Please, my eardrums have been offended enough.”

Hour Three.  
Dean looked over at Crowley suspiciously. He’d been staring out the window quietly for the past ten minutes, and it was making Dean fidgety.  
“Hey. Asshat. What’s so fascinating about farmland?”  
“You forget, squirrel, that I don’t do this much. Road-tripping. What’s boring farmland to you is a world of possibilities for me.”  
“What a great thought,” Dean muttered.

Hour Four.  
“…and then he said, ‘I’ll trade you anything for that lanyard’— are you even listening?”  
“Nope.”  
“Liar. Anyway, he agreed to trade his soul for the lanyard, but what he didn’t know was that his fiancée already had a key to the house…”

Hour Five.  
“So what about you, Dean? Got any interesting stories to tell?”  
“Nope.”  
“Really? All these years… what is it again? Saving people… hunting things… the family business. Surely you’ve got some interesting tale to regale me with as we travel down this weary road.”  
“Nothing I’m interested in sharing with you, Crowley.”  
“Well, if that’s how you’re going to be…”

Hour Five and a Half.  
“—and then the kid comes home, covered in manure, still holding this soggy mess of flowers!” Dean grinned at the memory and Crowley was doubled over in laughter, his seatbelt straining.  
“He told me he’d tripped and fallen in a field. In a field, in the middle of Chicago, and he thought I was going to believe it! It was hilarious.” Dean smacked a hand on the steering wheel, still shaking with mirth, his face cracked open in a smile that crinkled his eyes.  
“You know, you’re not half bad, Winchester. I only wish your brother was here to tell me stories about you.”  
“Yeah, well, he’s not here.” Dean’s eyes immediately lost their brightness. His eyebrows slammed down, and an odd sort of tension corrupted his face.   
“Anyway, we have work to do. And I’m not going to tell the King of Hell funny stories while we’re looking for this blade, so… just be quiet.”

Hour Six.  
The house looked pretty normal. Of course, nothing in the life of a Winchester ever even approached “normal”, so Dean was fairly suspicious.   
He swung the Impala’s door closed, and started towards the house.  
“Wait,” Crowley blurted.


End file.
